Je Peindrai toujours

[peindrenoir]

peindrenoir is a highly private and highly selective roleplay blog for Renoir Dessendre from Clair Obscur | Expedition 33

A strong focus on life, love, family, grief, control, feeling out of control, and a father's love. This blog focuses on character development and exploration.

activity will be sporadic starting jan 14 bc new university semester, yay !!

carrd prompts headcanons

painting with: @perduxamour, @lightcreators , @yukikorogashi, @cleamaesta

[peindrenoir]

Listen, I just need Squenix to stop making good jrpgs I don’t have time.

[peindrenoir]

Me vs my need to finish The Adventures of Elliot; The millennium tales vs my brain cells latching onto and musing Elliot.

[etoilesfantome]

The sharp snap of the cane upon the floor makes him jolt, reflexive and startled, and pale blues snap up to his father’s but only briefly linger. “ —— I don’t hate you. “ And that’s muttered under his breath, low but genuine; briefly, his fingers falter from where they have been busy stuffing his packs full. Briefly, that seems like all he’ll say, but there’s still thoughts leaving open traces; this is not easy or simple and never has been.

“ How long has it been since the Fracture? Twenty years? Thirty? “ He doesn’t even know, not off the top of his head; the years have started to drift by, slipping from his fingers like sand in an hourglass. “ I’m older than you were. When it happened, I mean. Older than you were when we made the first Expedition. I’m not a child anymore. I’m not your little boy. I’m old and I’m tired and, ” he breathes in a sharp breath through his teeth, zipping up his bag, “ I’m stuck living this —— “

He closes his eyes briefly, letting that surge of emotion fire, resettle; when he reopens them, his jaw tightens. “ You don’t understand what it’s like. You , ” and he lets the bag go, turning and stepping towards his father: his eyes blazing, wounded, “ got your family. You got a life. You got to get married and have children. You got to get older. I get to stand here and know that I won’t get to have any of that, that I won’t get to have my own life. "

But oh, he's not done yet: " And. And. I’m left with the fucking memories of the dead bastard who remembers making this place, so all I see when I look at it is a childhood I didn’t even fucking have covered in bodies and blood, and every day I’m reminded that if I had never existed, everyone here would be better off even if they didn’t exist. ”

Great: great, now shameful tears scald his eyes, and he swore he wouldn’t fucking cry but now here he is. He turns away, furious, to snatch up the bag. “ And all you can do is accuse me of not fucking caring. But you won’t care enough to listen to me. ” He swears again, colorful and under his breath. " It's not about wanting death. It's being tired of this life I'm stuck in. "

[peindrenoir]

He's angry, Verso's angry. Nothing good can come of this when the two of them clash. Yet, Renoir still intends to fight, to argue. Maybe, if he argues enough, Verso will understand. His family is fractured. Verso is stuffing his bag to leave, to leave Renoir alone with Aline in her sorrow and Alicia mute and scarred. Alicia needs her brother. He needs his son. Aline needs her little boy-

Anger rises up and mixes with a grief that is unbearable. Every day he is painted with the knowledge of this family, of the grief that tears apart the real Dessendre family. They are on the verge of a second destruction and all Verso can see is his own depression and no one else's pain. Far be it for him to call Renoir selfish and unwilling to listen.

❝My family is currently in ruins with my son wanting to leave.❞ Teeth grit as his grip tightens. Knuckles whiten as he grips the head of the cane as hard as he can. ❝I want my son. I want my family. I want us to return to our home and carry on with our lives.❞

❝I cannot lose you-I refuse to lose my son. Come home and see reason.❞ A plea, masked with grit and determination. Covered up by anger, by the pain of a grief that was not his, painted into the core of his being. Renoir clutches with the only thing he has-love for his family and Aline. Nothing else matters. Lumiere could burn. All he needs is them. Without them, he is nothing.

He needs his family, needs to protect them. A fierce desire to shield them, to keep them from harm. That too is painted into him by her. Verso's words cannot reach beneath the power that move him, the feelings Aline painted him with.

Perhaps they will never see eye to eye.

❝You can have all of that and more once we fix this world. We can fix this. Maman can bring back Julie. All you need to do is help me. All is not lost.❞

[ingenieurlumina]

"Lost to the grief of people far beyond our understanding. It's as if gods are fighting above us - while we're simply puppets to be moved however they need." He furrows his brow, considering the man's words, the weight behind them. He's hit with the brief, painful longing for a time when he wasn't bearing the world upon his shoulders, carrying the weight of the city and their expectations. He wants to clutch at his maman's skirt and crawl into her lap for a story.

Gustave sighs softly, squaring his shoulders as he looks at Renoir. "As is to be expected. How could he expect to share this information and be received with anything but suspicion and anger?" Gustave crosses his arms across his chest, pursing his lips as he rocks from side to side, thoughtful. He didn't really have an answer - nothing about this situation was clear or easy to piece through.

He furrows his brow further, another piece of the puzzle, Renoir and Verso are family, the Paintress his mother. Verso wants to destroy the canvas, Renoir wants to save it. The cycle of grief rampant through their home - tearing tracks through families outside of their own and Gustave rocks back onto his heels.

Their world is shaped and formed at the whims of people dealing with their grief with power so far beyond what Gustave understands and he feels like someone has pulled the rug from beneath him, tipping him off his feet so his stomach lurches. He's not a religious man - he's a man of science and never has been religious. But there's something about all this information that's shaking regardless.

"How can we save it? Do you have a plan? An idea to preserve our canvas-" boy doesn't that feel weird on his tongue "-or free the painters from this world without destroying it or them?"

[peindrenoir]

❝If I had the answer, I would've done it by now. Unfortunately, I do not know everything. I only know that the painters have a choice to leave. They can. Destroying the canvas is optional for them. They could leave and we'd be fine.❞

However, they don't see it that way because of Aline. Because she is attached to it in her grief. It is all she has left of her son. Destroying it won't bring him back. Lingering in it won't bring him back. No one wins when grief is involved. They are all human and they all are losing here.

Renoir does feel for them. Lumiere was caught in the crossfire. He was caught in the crossfire too. Aline painted him to be what she felt she needed. He was saddled with a burden no one should bare. As was Verso too painted with an unfair expectation.

Renoir understands all too well, perhaps the most out of all of them next to Verso. Verso is the one who truly knows everything. He understands this pain better than anyone.

❝Explaining this, helping you won't bring back everyone you've lost. However, the painters could. Before they leave, they can right the wrongs if they choose. They simply need to see past their grief and the feud that is dragging on between them.❞ He places a heavy hand on Gustave's shoulder. ❝I know it is no consolation for the pain, but if it is-was possible to right those wrongs, they can do it.❞

[peindrenoir]

Also if you want to know the level of intense I can be just know I drink my orange juice with maximum pulp. It’s the only valid way. I want to physically drink my orange and I said what I said 😤

[peindrenoir]

Internet set up, second week in apartment down, computer unpacked. It’s time…for Renoir to come back. For real. No more delays. We are coming back into business as long as my energy holds.

[peindrenoir]

It’s been a bit, I have finally moved and it is and was a lot. Bby’s first apartment! Tonight is my first night and it feels….weird.

[peindrenoir]

Also my leasing agent said I’d be getting my lease a few days before move in and I have literally heard nothing from them and if they wait until the day before, I will riot.

[peindrenoir]

Next week is moving week. I am not even half way packed and my school and work schedules are taking me out.

[peindrenoir]

Sometimes I think about Alicia and Renoir and how alike they are in not being able to communicate their feelings well. Alicia going mute vs Renoir just internalizing everything and expressing himself more through painting. Vs Alicia and her poetry.

Sorry youngest you got the tism from

Papa.

[peindrenoir]

In case you are wondering I’m about half way through SH2 now.

The vibes do not get better. They’ve only increased in how rancid they are.

[peindrenoir]

The unfortunate, or fortunate, reality of me on discord is either me sending you dog pics, me going on about my status with packing for move, or I live play by play explain to you where I am at in Silent Hill 2. Those are my only options.

[peindrenoir]

My greatest joy in life is getting people into Clair Obscur so that they add muses and the fandom grows.

[peindrenoir]

The perfect answer to my sadness is clearly considering renewing my sub to ff14 and once again falling into the abyss.

[peindrenoir]

Pspspspsps Cleas, we should do papa and daughter things.

[sanscest69]

I just realized that many many people have jobs

Rb with your job, wtf do you people do while offline???